Silent Nights
by bitter42
Summary: I used to be a GC shipper! cries This is a GC story. It is unfinished and will always be. :D Read and laugh. All flames are accepted.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Silent Nights  
  
Author: Ann  
  
Summary: G/C...Gil and Catherine are sent to a small town in New England to investigate a series of murders. Who knows what else may await them.?  
  
Disclaimer: They're still not my characters. I just make them do fun stuff!  
  
Notes: Just want to thank everybody for forcing me to post this story. ; ) I just hope you're not too disappointed. It's not finished at this point, and I hope to get a bit of inspiration and a few ideas so I can wrap it up neatly. Allison--thanks a bunch. I know that sounds repetitive, but I would never have the courage to write without your help.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Reservations for Mr. and...um...uh...Mrs.um.... Grissom." Gil stuttered nervously, surveying the quaintness of the vintage inn, hoping that the receptionist couldn't see the awkwardness that he most-definitely felt. Although Brass had given him a few mundane reasons, Grissom was still trying to figure out exactly why it was crucial for he and Catherine to pose as husband and wife. Truth be told, he was still trying to figure out exactly why they were there in the first place...and two weeks before Christmas. He just hoped that they would get home in time for Catherine to spend the holidays with Lindsey--she wouldn't forgive herself if she didn't.  
  
Union, Conneticut...what the hell was in Union, Conneticut? This little inn that would become their temporary home, a sporadic assembly of small restaurants and shops, and...a murderer. Ah, yes, back to the reason they were there. A small town with a population of under 600 people, 12 of which had been murdered within the past six weeks. Twelve unsolved murders, no prominent evidence, and two crime scene investigators shipped across the country to solve a crime they know nothing about--except for barely legible notes written by a small-town sheriff and his deputy. "Welcome to Mayberry." Grissom mumbled under his breath.  
  
He was startled out of his thoughts by the feeling of a soft pressure inside of his coat pocket. Instinctively, he reached his own hand into the flap, grazing a much colder hand that was making it's retreat, and feeling the small box he had left in the car earlier. He wondered briefly if it was now empty. He turned slightly to his left and saw her now standing by his side, cheeks still flushed from the biting cold from the outdoors. Grissom eagerly looked down to her gloved hands and mentally chastised himself. When Catherine shivered slightly, still getting used to the warmth in the building, he raised his eyes. She had his leather overnight bag slung over her shoulder. He had carried her much heavier bag in with him as he checked in. While hastily leaving the car a few minutes prior, he had muttered something about coming back to get his own later.  
  
He gave her a crooked smile and shook his head, knowing that there was no use in arguing with her as to why she had bothered bringing the bag in with her now. He simply slid his hand up her shoulder and underneath the strap and transferred the bag onto his own arm. She gave him a mock glare as she moved to pick up her own suitcase. He quickly manuvered and grabbed it with his free hand before she had a chance. ~Why does she have to be so stubborn?~  
  
Grissom still stood, arms full, when the desk clerk came back with their room key and a form for him to sign. He shifted his body, weighing his options as to how to manuver the bags in order to pick up the ink pen off of the counter. Catherine giggled at his persistance and the young lady smiled slightly at the look of irritation crossing his features. "Um, sir? Your wife can sign the receipt."  
  
Grissom's eyes shot up, and then he tried to play down his shock at hearing those words. ~My wife...hmm..am I the only one phased by that?~ Catherine had already moved to the counter, removed her gloves, and began signing the slip when he first noticed a slight shimmer on her left hand. ~She's wearing them.~ His thoughts drifted back to a few minutes prior.  
  
**********  
  
Gil and Catherine had been sitting in the rental car as they pulled up to the inn when Catherine had first noticed the odd silence that encompassed them. They had previously shared idle chit-chat on the plane, both expressing their curiosity and intrigue over the little-known details of this case. Discussions of their "marriage arrangement" were not brought up. Both had been briefed by Brass and told to not let anyone in the town know of the real reason for their visit. The town was so small that by one person knowing their interest in the murders, the actual killer could catch wind of it quickly, and any hope for deciphering any remaining evidence may be lost. She noticed Grissom's hands tightening on the steering wheel of the idling car. He was staring straight ahead, watching the small flurries of snow being removed by the windshield wipers at even intervals. Even though they were at their destination, neither one had made a move to get out of the car.  
  
"Gris, you okay?" Catherine tilted her body forward to try to make contact with his eyes.  
  
He looked at her and loosened his grip, while nodding his head. "Yeah...um..I'm fine. He reached into the backseat and grabbed his coat and set it on his lap, reaching a hand into the pocket. "Cath..I'm not sure...well, I brought these...and...you don't have to..." He stopped mid sentence and lowered his head again.  
  
"What Gil? Are you sure you're alright?" She was obviously worried now. Just as she was about to speak again, demanding to know what he was stammering about, he pulled a small velvet box out of the pocket that his hand had been resting in.  
  
"These were my grandmother's." He opened the box to reveal an elegant engagement ring and wedding band. "I just thought that since..well..I mean..so, we don't arouse suspicion.." He looked over at her to try to read her expression, but it was one of pure astonishment. It was just then that she had noticed a golden band on his own ring finger. She reached over to lightly graze it with her fingertips. "My grandfather's." He answered her unspoken question.  
  
Catherine nodded as she pulled her hand back, so that it was resting in her lap. Her eyes gazed back to the box that he was still holding in his right hand. She was in awe of the beautiful rings, but even more so because of the fact that Gil was basically asking her to wear them--allowing her to wear them. She had often dreamed of a moment similar to this. And even though the sentiment wasn't the same, it took her breath away, nonetheless. Catherine had to force herself to hold back tears.  
  
Gil mistook the look on her face as one of sadness. He didn't want her to feel as though she was obligated to wear the rings. He became slightly angry at himself for even bringing up the idea. "Listen Catherine..you don't have to wear them...it was just a thought..just forget it." He looked down at the ring that was housed on his own finger and closed his eyes. Before she could say anything, he had opened his car door, tossed the box down on his seat, mumbled something she couldn't decipher, and shut the car door. She could see him in the side view mirror unlocking the trunk. Without another word, he was walking into the inn, her suitcase in tow.  
  
**********  
  
Gil was shaken out of his thoughts by Catherine whispering in his ear. "Are you sleeping standing up?"  
  
He shuttered lightly, feeling her breath on his neck. "No." He answered shortly, not wanting to have to explain why his thoughts had wandered off.  
  
"You ready then?"  
  
"Ready for what?"  
  
She laughed at his obliviousness. "To go up to our room." ~Our room..~ "You sure you don't want me to grab one of those bags."  
  
He smiled, tension leaking from his body, witnessing the radiant grin covering Catherine's face. "I'm sure." He nodded towards the counter. "Just grab the key and lead the way."  
  
Catherine gave him a slight wink. "Yes dear." 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
  
  
"Wow, this is beautiful." Catherine had stepped inside of the small room, holding the door open, waiting for Grissom to enter. He walked in, and, after he placed the bags on the floor, joined her in surveying the room.  
  
"Yes...very nice.." Despite the natural investigator in him, Grissom never considered himself a man who would normally pay particular attention the décor of a room. This, however, was an exception. Even he would have to admit that the picturesque view now revealed to him was breath-taking.  
  
It was small and simple, but oh-so-elegant. The center of the room housed a large canopy bed, it's satin and lace drapery pulled back to reveal very inviting quarters. A snow white comforter, smothered by pastel overstuffed pillows, encompassed the bed. Vases filled with fresh flowers were scattered about the room, their scent lingering in the air. They provided a comforting contrast to the deadness of winter outside. A dim light on the bedside table was lit, but the majority of the room's illumination came from the many candles that flickered about. In the far corner of the room, a large, old fashioned free-standing bathtub stood on it's claw-shaped legs. A shower curtain, matching the material from the bed's canopy, hung suspended from the ceiling and circled around the tub, providing a small bit of modesty in the room's openness. There were two doors against the wall beside the fixture. Gil had yet to investigate them, but assumed that they probably led to the restroom and a closet of some sort.  
  
Noticing movement out the corner of his eye, he paused his evaluation of the room and moved his gaze to Catherine. She had taken off her coat and was in the process of crawling onto the large bed. Stretching to open the drawer of the bedside table, she withdrew a phone book, a Bible, and a few pieces of paper, probably giving information about the hotel and other local places of interest. As Grissom watched her body relax into the comforting embrace of the bed, he thought of what it would feel like to join her there, letting his body press gently against her own. Before mentally chastising himself for his outlandish fantasies, he took the time to realize that before the night was over, he may, in fact, join her in that bed. ~One man..one woman..one room..one bed. Should I offer to sleep on the floor? How do I even broach that subject?~  
  
"Hey Gil?" She had dropped the papers she was glancing over and was staring at him now, propped up on her elbow, head in hand. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"  
  
"Um, nothing much." He changed the subject quickly. "Have you found anything interesting over there?"  
  
"I don't think so. I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for. Help me look?" She scooted over on the bed, leaving room for him, and patted the now empty spot beside her.  
  
Grissom stood firmly in his spot across the room for a slight moment, just looking at her. Without conscious thought, his feet picked themselves up and were moving towards the bed. And again, before his mind could protest, his body had placed itself against the backboard of the bed, next her. As the bed adjusted to the new weight upon it, Catherine's form slid closer to Grissom's, her hip pressing firmly to his. She placed half of the brochures and other papers on his lap and continued flipping through a few others.  
  
A little over an hour had passed since they had began going over the materials with a fine-toothed comb, hoping to find something that may pertain to the case. Grissom now had the entire case file he had brought from Las Vegas sprawled out on the bed. He and Catherine were comparing the victim's names and crime scenes--trying to find the link that they knew had to be there. That was the problem, though--everyone was linked. In a town this small, everyone knew everyone else--they ate at the same restaurants, shopped at the same stores, and prayed in the same chapel. Somewhere along the line, that would have to be the key to catching whoever is responsible for this. Someone in this town knew something--that was inevitable. Now they just had to find out 'who'... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It had been fifteen minutes since Catherine had fell asleep on Grissom's stomach. She had been quiet for a while, and he just figured that she was deep in thought. And when she leaned over him, he only thought she was grabbing for a sheet of paper. It was when her head didn't raise back up, but instead buried itself into the material of his shirt below his chest, that he drew in a sharp breath. He watched her for a few moments, trying to mirror his own irratic breathing to the slow and steady rise and fall of her back. Careful not to wake her, he gently stroked her hair, loving the feel of it underneath his fingertips. He reveled in being able to touch her, knowing that if she were awake he wouldn't have the courage--or, perhaps, she wouldn't have allowed it. With that last thought, he removed his hand from her tresses, feeling guilty for allowing himself to indulge in his overwhelming desire to touch her. He pulled his glasses off and set them on the table, proceeding to rub the strain from his eyes. Soon after he leaned his head back, the need for sleep overtook him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Catherine yawned and stretched slowly, suddenly startled by the warm body underneath her. She felt a twinge of embarassment, realizing that she must have fallen asleep on Grissom. She pulled herself up a bit to look into his eyes, but saw that they were hidden underneath of his closed lids. His breathing was steady underneath her and he had a look of pure innocence across his features. Pulling herself up a bit, she laid her head down on his chest and listened to his heart beat rhythmically in her ear. He shifted slighly in his sleep and pulled her closer to him, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. Catherine let out a sigh of contentment, wishing for the moment to never end--wishing that he would forever capture her in his embrace. She looked at the rings that were now gracing her finger and smiled at the irony of the situation. The last time she wore a ring on that finger was when she was married to Eddie--there wasn't much love or sentiment to it--just the next logical step in their relationship. And now she wore a symbol of love again and, although she wasn't actually married to this man beneath her, the love she felt for him was one of the most powerful emotions that she had ever experienced. Yet, he had no clue. Such an oddly twisted reality. She felt her throat catch and didn't know if she was trying to suppress a laugh or a sob... 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Grissom was awakened by the sound of the door shutting. He opened his eyes to see Catherine sitting down at the table, eyeing a laminated piece of paper. "Who was that?," he said sitting up, pulling the covers off of his body, and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. ~She must have covered me up.~ He grinned.  
  
"One of the inn's employees. Seems there's a big snowstorm moving in, and they assumed we would just be eating here at the hotel. I was informed that we get free dinner nightly anyway--it comes with the...honeymoon suite." She raised her eyebrow at him, quizically.  
  
He stepped up from the bed and smiled lightly at her. "Brass made the reservations."  
  
"Of course. CSI's money. Who am I to complain?" She held up the menu. "So, what do you want to order?"  
  
"Whatever. You know what I like." He was going through the papers that she had apparently removed from the bed earlier and had stacked neatly next to his glasses on the table.  
  
"You're making a mess, Grissom. I just organized those from the mess you made earlier!"  
  
"Me? I seem to recall someone else throwing papers across the bed, too. That is, before she fell asleep on me and left me to sort through evidence by myself."  
  
Catherine smiled at him to hide her embarassment. She had wondered how long she had been asleep before he followed suit. "I was tired. Sue me."  
  
"Obviously, we both were." He sighed and ran his fingers through the slightly touseled curls on his head. "I'm just not sure how much we're going to find by going through these papers. We need to get to those crime scenes. But we can't do that in a blizzard. Even now, who knows how much hasn't been destroyed already? I mean, the first murder was almost six weeks ago. We're probably going to have to rely on the more recent ones to catch our guy and just hope that some of that evidence links us to the previous victims. We'll make a chart of victims, locations, and timelines tonight. I'll also call Brass and see if he's got anything new for us."  
  
"Are you expecting something new?"  
  
"Well, they've been shipping the bodies to a medical examiner about an hour away. They don't have the manpower or equipment to do anything here. Dr. Haysbert--I think it is--is then sending all pictures of the victims and any other pertinent evidence to Doc Robins, who is then keeping Brass in the loop."  
  
"Why through so many hands? You know as well as I do that the evidence diminishes little by little the more people it has to go through. Why don't we just go to the medical examiner's office ourselves?"  
  
"Yes, I know, that sounds the most logical. You know me, Cat--you know I would much rather have my own hands on that evidence. Especially now that we're not even able to process the actual crime scenes like we should. But, Brass wants us to be as discreet as we can about this--he thinks that somebody local did this--somebody that is still very much around. And I'm sure that he's right. I just feel like we're working this case from afar."  
  
"We are. This is going to be tough, Gris--we both know that. We've got next to nothing to work with. But, I couldn't have asked for a better partner."  
  
"You mean husband." He wasn't quite sure why he said it outloud--he was thinking it, and it just slipped from his lips. He winked at her to alleviate his own tension and lighten the mood.  
  
"Probably couldn't ask for a better one of those either." And with that, she winked back at him and walked towards the door. "I'm going to go down and order us something to eat. Maybe talk to some of the 'town folk' while I'm down there. I'll be back in a bit."  
  
The door was already shut, when "Okay" slipped through his lips. "Does she even have a clue what she does to me?" "No, because you won't tell her." He let out a cynical laugh and shook his head, wondering why he was carrying on a full conversation with himself.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It had been well over an hour since Catherine had left to go to the lobby to get their dinner. Grissom was pacing the room nervously, wondering what was taking her so long. His fears were alleviated somewhat when he looked out the window and saw the rental car resting in it's same parking space, collecting mounds of snow on top of it. ~At least she didn't venture off in this weather. She has to be in the building somewhere.~ He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the door key off of the desk and exited the room, determined to find out what could be holding her up.  
  
The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the small lobby. Several small corridors branched out from the room. He wasn't quite sure where to start looking for Catherine.  
  
"Can I help you sir?" Grissom noticed that a different young lady was now positioned behind the counter. She must have noticed him looking around, confused as to where he was headed.  
  
"Restaurant?"  
  
"Yes sir." She pointed to her left. "If you take this hallway all the way down, you'll see it on the right."  
  
"Thanks." He was already walking when he spoke. When he had almost reached the end of the hallway, he could hear the music before he could actually see the restaurant. The windows were tinted black and an open sign hung on the door. He peered through his cupped hands, trying to see inside of the dark glass. Realizing that this was getting him nowhere--he couldn't see a thing--he opened the door and walked in hesitantly.  
  
It looked more like a bar than the quaint restaurant he was expecting. There were people everywhere--young and old. He mused to himself that half of the town's population must be residing there at this very moment. Some were playing pool, some crowded at small tables, and a few more were sitting at the bar. That's when he saw her.  
  
Catherine was on a bar stool, next to a man whose hand was resting on her back. Grissom's jaw tightened as he watched the man's fingers play about her spine. She swiveled in her seat, but the man didn't remove his hand-- he only repositioned it. It was now resting on her hip. ~Why is she letting a stranger touch her?~ Grissom wasn't sure whether he wanted to turn and run out the door, or whether he wanted to knock the ever-present silly grin off of the man's face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked forward until he was directly behind where Catherine was sitting. He was just out of her vision when he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "Hello Catherine 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
She jumped, startled by the sound of her name. Quickly turning around on her stool, she smiled at the sight of Grissom standing in front of her. ~He looks pissed. How long have I been down here? Is he that hungry? He'll get over it--I've been working.~ Catherine quickly stood up and threw her arms around his neck. She positioned her mouth next to his ear and lightly whispered "We need to talk...play along." Pulling forward and looking into his confused eyes, she pushed her lips to his for a moment, lingering a second longer than she had initially intended. "Hey baby."  
  
"Hi." Grissom spoke softly, his body still tingling with electricity. He, still holding her by her waist, bit his bottom lip, contemplating what just taken place. ~Catherine kissed me. Very briefly, albeit, but she still kissed me.~ He glanced at the man who was still seated next to her and realized that he must be the reason behind Catherine's actions. The man had an odd sort of grimace on his face. ~Well, you're not touching her now, are you? Jerk.~ He almost laughed, but stopped himself, realizing that he would then have to explain the thoughts going through his head.  
  
"Were you wondering where I had disappeared to?"  
  
"I was mildly concerned. Yes."  
  
Catherine could see in his eyes that he wasn't lying or just 'playing along'. He was actually worried enough to come looking for her.  
  
"Good thing you found her in time. She was actually thinkin' of running off with me." The comment forced Grissom to break his eye contact with Catherine. The man was now standing up, facing Grissom, and was smiling that irksome grin again. Seeing the scowl that crossed Grissom's features, he realized that he must not be impressed by his humor. "Just kidding man. But, you really shouldn't allow such a beatiful specimen of woman to stray too far from your sight. Ya never know when she might stray too far."  
  
"I'm not worried about that." Grissom gave Catherine a small grin before turning back towards the man. Grissom's trained eye began to investigate him. He was short and stocky with black hair, greased back to his head. He had bushy eye brows that bounced up and down as he talked. And the grin that was constantly plastered to his face rubbed Grissom the wrong way. When he moved to bring his hand up to the back of Catherine's neck, Grissom had had enough. Gil slighly clutched her hand and tugged gently, effectively pulling her towards him. She didn't move to let go of his hand, so he laced his fingers in hers and leaned towards her. "You ready to go?"  
  
She nodded. It was that moment---standing in a crowded bar, holding Grissom's hand---that she realized just how much she wanted to kiss him again. An actual kiss..not some peck on the lips. She just wanted to lay one on him. She smiled at the thought of what his reaction would be to that. ~Would he kiss me back? Push me away? Lock me in an insane asylum and throw away the key?~ Catherine was jolted back to reality by the sound of a conversation starting back up. She sighed heavily.  
  
"Aw, leaving so soon? We didn't even formally meet yet. I'm assuming that you're the husband that I was disappointed to hear so much about. I'm Sheldon Jones. My friends call me 'Jonsey.'" He ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times and then reached his hand out to shake Grissom's.  
  
~Why does that name sound so familiar?~ Grissom reluctantly pulled his free hand up and shook the man's hand quickly. He then looked down at his own fingers, which were now lightly coated with a shiny film. Looking up again at the man's greasy hair, he frowned and wiped his hand on the back of his pants. "Gil Grissom."  
  
"I'm the sheriff here in Union."  
  
Grissom nodded, urging him to go on. ~Ah, ha. That's it. The sheriff..that's why Catherine was sticking around.~  
  
"Small town--wouldn't think there would be so much trouble. It's a job and a half, though. That's what the pretty lady and I were talking about. She seems really interested in the criminal mind. What do you do, Mr. Grissom?"  
  
"Bank robber," Grissom answered sarcastically. Catherine squeezed his hand and smiled.  
  
The sheriff let out a hearty laugh. "You're too funny, Mr. Grissom. But, I can see that you're anxious to go." He looked towards Catherine and spoke softly. "Perhaps we'll meet again."  
  
Grissom leaned forward, as if to whisper, but raised an eyebrow and spoke loudly. "Maybe." He then turned quickly and paused, waiting to see if Catherine was going to follow.  
  
"Bye Sheldon. Nice to meet you." With that, she turned and walked in front of Grissom, still gripping his hand, and pulled him towards the exit. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Grissom and Catherine walked back to their room in silence. Unspoken words electrified the air around them. Grissom sensed that there was something Catherine wanted to tell him. She was never one to bite her tongue, so the silence worried him slightly. Without looking down, he stretched his fingers a bit, making sure that she was, indeed, still holding his hand. He was sure that her hand in his could be justified as one of the most natural occurances in the world--it just felt right...perfect. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned towards her. She was moving her head about, curiosity playing along her features. She appeared to be looking for something, almost afraid of finding it. She looked scared... Grissom tried to shake off his concern and gently rubbed his thumb along her palm. When he succeeded in gaining her attention, he extended his free hand towards her, palm up.  
  
Her features lightened and she asked jokingly, "Do you want to hold my other hand too?"  
  
"Actually, I was hoping that you had the room key." He could feel the flush rising up his neck.  
  
"Of course." She smiled, reluctantly loosened her hand from his, and reached into her pocket, pulling the silver key out. "Voila." Catherine was trying her best to hide her emotions from him. She hoped he didn't notice that anything was wrong. She wasn't sure if she could deal with this right now. There was still a lot to process before gauging his reaction.  
  
"Thank you madam." He unlocked the door and held it open for her as she entered the room. When they were both inside, Grissom pulled the door shut behind him and moved to position himself in front of Catherine. "Now...," he sighed, "...you're going to tell me what's wrong."  
  
"What?" She tried to move past him, but he stepped forward a bit and placed his arm on the wall behind her, effectively trapping her in place. "Grissom..Gil...it's nothing." She cleared her throat and spoke again, aware that her previous statement didn't sound convincing enough. "Nothing's wrong."  
  
Her response didn't seem to phase him. "Tell me, Cat."  
  
"I can't." She immediately saw the hurt in his eyes at her last remark. ~He thinks I don't trust him. Oh God, Gil, I do.~  
  
A defeated look overtook his face as he stepped away from her. She reached blindly for him, grabbing onto the edge of his shirt. "Gil..I.."  
  
"Catherine..."  
  
"I.."  
  
"Talk to me," he whispered.  
  
"I.."  
  
"Please?"  
  
Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I know who did it."  
  
"What? Who? Catherine, what are you talking about?"  
  
A lone tear slipped down her cheek. "The sheriff...he...he killed those people, Gil. He did it. I know he did."  
  
He was shocked by what she was saying. ~The sheriff? How does she know this? Did he tell her? Did he hurt her?~ His hands found her shoulders, and he pulled her to his body. He didn't want to push her, but he needed answers. And he needed them now... "It's o.k., sweetheart...tell me what happened."  
  
"I...I didn't realize it until just a few minutes ago. I was...thinking about the case.." Nervous and scared, she was tripping over her words. "..and I remembered."  
  
"Remembered, what?" Grissom pulled back to look into her eyes. He wiped the tears from her face and stroked her hair.  
  
"I knew...I knew that something was off with him. I just couldn't place it. I brought up the murders--just that I had heard some people talking about them and that I thought that it was tragic. And he grinned, Gil."  
  
Knowing that this was effecting her deeply, he tried to choose his words gently. "You can't convict the man for grinning, Cat. I noticed it too. He always had that silly smirk plastered on his face. That doesn't mean that he---"  
  
"God, I know that Gil! That's not it. He told me...he mentioned what the murder weapon was for the first victim. A shoelace. Used to strangle her.."  
  
Grissom's eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. "The murder weapon for the first victim has yet to be determined.." His voice dropped off.  
  
"Exactly. But, he KNEW, Gris. He knew what it was."  
  
"Cath, there could be some sort of mistake." He was trying to think of something logical..anything logical...  
  
"No, Grissom. You know there's not. You...know."  
  
"I can't crunch evidence to fit a theory, Cat. And right now, this is a theory."  
  
"God damnit, Grissom, this is NOT a theory! We had nothing on this case. We have something--someone--now. We've got to go with it."  
  
"Cat.."  
  
"Grissom. There's more." Her mind was running in overdrive. Her lips couldn't seem to keep up with her thoughts.  
  
"Remember the unidentified substance that was found on all of the victims?"  
  
He nodded his head in realization. "His hair.."  
  
"Yes." She was still scared to death, but excitement now ran through her veins. They were getting close.. "Grease...or gel...or whatever...it was caked on."  
  
He looked down at his hand, remembering the sticky film from their handshake earlier. "But, he was at all of those scenes, Catherine."  
  
"I understand that. But, he shouldn't have touched the victims. And, if he had, he would have been required to wear gloves. This substance was found on all of the victims--every scene."  
  
Grissom pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. "Think we should call Greg and see if he has a reading on our mystery substance?"  
  
She smiled at him and threw herself into his arms. "You believe me," she whispered the fact in his ear.  
  
"It was never about not believing you, Cat." He nuzzled his nose into her hair. "I just didn't know what you had. You were upset. You were crying. I just thought you were scared and...grasping."  
  
"I am scared."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Catherine looked up at him in shock. It was a very rare occasion that Gil Grissom would admit to being scared.  
  
"When I saw you that upset, it scared me. I didn't know what was wrong or why you wouldn't trust me enough to tell me."  
  
"No, Grissom..." She brushed her fingers along his lips. "I trust you with my life."  
  
He kissed the tip of her finger gently before speaking. "I know." Their eyes met and the contact sent shivers down his spine. Breathing deeply and attempting to gather his courage, he tilted his head towards hers. He leaned in and kissed her cheek gently before pulling back slightly....  
  
Their eye contact was suddenly broken by flickering lights. The two pairs of eyes looked about in confusion before the room was plunged into total darkness...  
  
Tbc... 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
"Gris?" Her voice was shaky. She was gripping his shirt as she willed her eyes to adjust to the darkness.  
  
He could sense her question and blindly shook his head. "I don't know what happened."  
  
"God...do you think that he had something to do with it? I mean, what if he realized what he let slip? He'll know that I suspect something. God Grissom, what are we going to do?" Catherine was speaking quickly, the words rushing from her mouth.  
  
Grissom would have laughed and told her how she reminded him of Lindsey at this moment...that is, if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation. She was frightened--that was obvious. And he, himself, had even admitted outloud to being a bit afraid. He needed to calm her, alleviate her fears, be logical. Yes...logic. He pulled her hands from his shirt and stepped away from her. He had to supress the urge to run back and hold her when he heard her whimper at their loss of contact. Feeling his way across the room, he reached the window. Pulling the curtain aside, he squinted his eyes, trying to find something..anything...to put their minds at ease. And he found it. The moon shining brightly above was now the main source of light this evening--it wasn't just their room...or their hotel..the whole damn town was out of power. From the few headlights on the road beneath him, he could see the significant amount of snow and ice that had buried the small town. The scientist in him began to wonder how this was going to hinder their investigation. ~I wonder if they even have an electric company..~  
  
He turned around, as if he could see what she was doing. The noises were distinctive enough that he didn't even need to question them. She was locking the door. He heard the deadbold slide into place and then the rattling of the chain lock being hooked quickly followed.  
  
"Catherine?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Come here."  
  
"I can't even see my own hand in front of my face. How am I supossed to figure out where the hell you are?"  
  
"Follow my voice." He said it simply, as if it was an obvious answer.  
  
"OUCH. Shit!"  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Yeah. I ran into the damn bath tub. Why the hell is the bath tub in the middle of the room anyway?" She was pissy and irrational. She had actually thought that it was one of the most beautiful features of the room..but, she wasn't about to admit that now...  
  
Grissom smiled into the darkness. "You're headed the wrong way, Catherine."  
  
She turned around and began to follow his voice again. "Well, you weren't talking. How am I supossed to follow your voice if you're not talking." Catherine stood motionless until she heard him speaking again..  
  
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved."  
  
"What was that?" Grissom was startled by Catherine's voice so close and her hands touching him, settling on his waist.  
  
"Um..Shakespeare." He was thankful that she couldn't see him blushing.  
  
"I know that. I meant...well...why were you reciting it?"  
  
"You needed to hear me talking. So, I talked. It was the first thing that popped into my head. It must have worked---you found me."  
  
"That, I did." She ran one of her hands up to his chest, wondering if he knew exactly how safe she was capable of feeling when he was next to her. "So, I'm over here. For what, exactly, did I make this trek in the dark?"  
  
He reached for her hand and touched it to the window. "Look outside."  
  
"Gris, I don't see anything." She was confused and briefly wondered if, perhaps, he had knocked his head on something while stumbling around in the dark.  
  
"I know you don't. That's the point. The whole town seems to be out of power--not just us. Storm must have frozen the power lines." Though he couldn't see it, he could almost feel her smiling. "Feel better?"  
  
"A bit."  
  
"Good." He squeezed her hand tightly in his and felt that familiar electricity running throughout his body.  
  
"Do you have any matches...or a lighter? We could light these candles back up--then we'd at least have some light in here."  
  
"No. I don't. I shouldn't have blew them out before I went looking for you. I just didn't know how long I would be gone..."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Grissom attempted to reach for her face, just hoping that he didn't poke her in the eye. ~Yeah, Gil--that would be romantic.~ He breathed a small sigh when he felt her lips against his thumb. The rest of his fingers housed themselves on her cheek, rubbing gently. "Sorry for what, Catherine?"  
  
"For everything. For coming here...for leaving by myself...for meeting that sheriff..for letting my guard down and talking to him...for not realizing what he was up to sooner..for---"  
  
"Stop it, Cath. You may have broken this case open for us. Don't be sorry for that. And, I'm glad you didn't figure him out while you were with him. Who knows what could have happened then? He could have hurt you...killed you. God, Catherine.." He whispered more to himself than to her. "..what would I have done then?"  
  
"You would have had to solve the case all by yourself." She reached up and ruffled his hair a bit. "Imagine all of that paperwork."  
  
"Don't even joke about that." Grissom's tone was serious.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. Joking about it somehow makes it a little less real, though. I don't have to think about the fact that a murderer is still out there. And that right now there's nothing we can do to stop him."  
  
"We will."  
  
A surprisingly comfortable silence washed over them. They stood there, in the dark, listening to each other's breathing. They touched cautiously--- hands caressing faces, shoulders, and backs---neither one wanting to break the contact, but each wondering if the other felt that a line was being crossed.  
  
Grissom pulled back slightly, wishing he could see her eyes through the darkness of the room. He was, actually, starting to wish that he could just see something..anything. The complete darkness was getting to him. He mused that this was one of those moments where doing without made you actually appreciate what was normally taken for granted. For a brief moment, he wondered if his mind was thinking about the darkness or Catherine. He broke that thought and began to move towards the other side of the room. "I'll be right back."  
  
She grabbed onto his sleeve tightly. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Just right over there." He pointed, as if she could see.  
  
"Oh no you're not. I'm coming with you. You're not pulling that "follow my voice" thing again, Grissom."  
  
He laughed at her and felt her smack him lightly on the back in response. He started to move slowly across the room, very aware of her hands holding onto the back of his shirt. When he reached his destination and stopped, Catherine's momentum pushed the front of her body against his back. Her hands instinctively tightened around his waist, keeping both of them grounded. "Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly. She lost her grip on Grissom when she felt him squat down to, apparently, rummage through something.  
  
When she could no longer hear his movements and was about to question him, she was startled by the sudden illumination of his face. His beautiful smile could be seen, courtesy of the flashlight he was holding in his hands. "Boo." He joked, and shifted the light's beam in her direction, effectively causing a smile to light up her own features.  
  
"I totally forgot about the flashlight. Thank goodness one of us remembered." Catherine pried the light from his hand and moved it about the room a few times, finally pausing back on Grissom's face, relishing in the sight of him. "Have I told you lately you're a genius?"  
  
"Not lately. But, you can thank me later." His skin began to flush when he realized how that statement could be construed. He didn't mean it that way. As he stared into the light she was holding, he cursed himself for changing the batteries recently--at least he could have hidden in the darkness. He was just praying that she couldn't see the embarassment that he felt.  
  
"I just might." Catherine smiled at the redness covering his cheeks and ears. She knew what he meant by his statement, but she couldn't help but think of what she wished he had meant. She shook her thoughts off and momentarily aimed the beam at her suitcase, placed by the door. Shaking the flashlight in front of him gently, she directed a question to Grissom. "Can I borrow this for a few minutes?"  
  
"Um...yeah. You going somewhere?"  
  
"Shower..."  
  
  
  
TBC. Still a total lack of plot, I know. I'm just not ready to get back to the case just yet. Sorry! :::::hangs head in shame::::: 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Grissom was on the brink of sleep when Catherine's voice echoed through the room.  
  
"You want me to leave the water running for you?"  
  
He guided himself upwards on the bed to answer her, when he quickly slammed his eyes shut again. The way that she had positioned the flashlight on the table left him able to see a partial shadow of her nude form through the shower curtain. The emotions running throughout his mind and body frightened him. ~I know that I love her--she's my best friend--of course I love her... But, it's not about that anymore...and I'm not even sure when it changed. It's about the way that I feel when she's in the same room as me. When she touches me, I want more. It's pure selfishness. I don't think about the fact that she trusts me as a friend...to protect her...to prevent her from being hurt. And, then, here I am---my feelings threatening to break that trust and hurt her unconditionally. This has to stop...I have to stop...~  
  
"Grissom? Did you hear me?"  
  
"Um...yeah...that's fine."  
  
"Alright." She carefully stepped down from the tub, grabbed her towel, and felt for the bathroom through the darkness.  
  
When Grissom heard the door gently shut, he made his way from the bed, quickly shed his clothing, and stepped underneath the strong spray of water. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there. The liquid had lost it's heat a while ago, which was normal, considering there was still no electricity to fuel it's warmth. When his body began to shiver involuntarily, he turned the water off...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Walking from the bathroom, he could see Catherine's face aglow. She was propped up on the left side of the bed, curled up in blankets, holding the flashlight's handle between her teeth and flipping through a few pages of what he could only assume was more of the casefile. He smiled weakly to himself, before ruffling a small towel through his hair. Moving a step over, he reached the closet. When he managed to find the door knob, he opened it and clumsily pulled the extra blankets off of the top shelf.  
  
Catherine could hear him coming towards the bed and flashed the light in his direction so that he wouldn't stumble over anything.  
  
"Good, we've got more blankets...it's freezing in here. I was, actually, just thinking that the shower was a bad idea." Her smile transformed into a frown when she saw his distant expression. "You feeling alright, Gil?"  
  
"Yeah." He flipped one of the blankets into the air and watched it float slowly back down, landing neatly on the floor. "I'm fine."  
  
Catherine's eyebrows knitted tightly together as she watched him repeat the process with a second blanket. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Making a pallet." Grissom turned around and laid another blanket at her feet. "Here's another one for you."  
  
She ignored his offering and continued to watch him as he shifted to grab a pillow from the other side of the bed. When he dropped it onto the floor and moved to position himself there also, she decided to question him. "So, you're sleeping on the floor? Why's that?"  
  
He was taken aback by her question. He didn't expect her to ask, and he sure as hell didn't know how to answer her. ~Well, Catherine, I'm afraid that if I sleep in the same bed as you, that I won't be able to control myself. Yep, that about sums it up. I bet she'd just love to hear that, Gil.~ "I, uh, don't know. I just want to sleep on the floor."  
  
"You want to sleep on the floor?" She questioned his statement, still not sure that she understood.  
  
"You heard me." It came out much harsher than he intended and he winced at the sound of his own voice.  
  
"Okay." Catherine rolled over so that she wasn't facing him and pulled the covers up to her chin. She was now wondering who the man standing behind her was...and what had happened to the man from earlier today...the man who alleviated her fears with a whisper and comforted her with a single touch. She would be the first to admit that it was a newer side of Grissom, but also the first to admit that she missed him already..  
  
  
  
TBC..Sorry this was so short. And still no plot! ; ) But, you guys were really nice about the lack of plot in the last chapter! Maybe, eventually, I'll get back to the case. I'm just having a little fun exploring G/C right now. I'm off this weekend, so I'll probably have another chapter up by Sunday evening...Thanks a lot for your awesome reviews--they really do mean a lot to me! 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Grissom tossed and turned, twisting his legs in the blanket, in a feeble attempt to get warmth to his feet. He opened his eyes slowly, noticing the darkness filling the room. It was still night...or early morning--he couldn't read his watch, so he didn't have a clue as to which. He stretched lightly, groaning at the pain that shot up his back. The sound of his groan was replaced by Catherine's muffled voice.  
  
"No...no, please...don't...don't hurt...no." Grissom immediately stood up and leaned over the bed. Her face was sunken into the pillows and her body was moving around slightly. She was speaking so quietly that, if he wasn't already awake, he probably wouldn't have heard her. But, he could hear her, and whatever she was experiencing in her sleep state, obviously, wasn't pleasant.  
  
He touched her shoulder lightly, attempting to rouse her from her sleep without startling her. "Catherine? Cat..wake up."  
  
"No..don't touch me." Her form quickly shot to the other side of the bed, away from his grasp. The coherent speech had subsided, but her breathing was still ragged as small noises emitted from her mouth.  
  
"Catherine...it's me. It's Grissom." He placed his knee upon the mattress and pulled himself onto the side of the bed recently vacated by Catherine. Her warmth could still be felt--for a brief instant, he noted how stark of a contrast it was to the chill in the room. That idle thought was replaced by the sudden fear that, perhaps, it was him that she was afraid of. After all, he was a jerk last night. He knew he was--but he didn't apologize. ~God, she doesn't really think I would hurt her, does she? I would never hurt her--she has to know that. I would give my life to assure that she doesn't feel pain.~  
  
"Gris...Grissom?" The sleepiness in her voice was evident. Her eyes were still closed, but her breathing had calmed considerably.  
  
"Yes, sweetheart, it's me." He kept his voice at a whisper.  
  
"Hold me."  
  
~Hold her? She wants me to hold her? That means she still trusts me, doesn't it? God, I hope that's what it means. I can hold her--I can do that. I must do that--I must be there for her...~  
  
Grissom reached up to her shoulder and grazed his fingers along the material of her t-shirt. He then moved down the length of her arm and under the covers until he reached her hand. He squeezed gently and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Anything for you, Catherine...anything," he whispered to her sleeping form.  
  
He pulled back momentarily and positioned his body underneath the covers. When his cold body met her warmer one, she shifted in her sleep, effectively placing herself in his arms, grabbing ahold of his shirt. Feeling the weight of her body falling upon his, he let out a heavy sigh. He reminded himself that this was for her, not himself. For minutes on end, his hands continuously rubbed up and down her back, ensuring that she was kept warm. Simply watching her kept him content, and, soon, he was lulled to sleep by the breaths of the beauty in his arms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Catherine attempted to shift in her sleep, but wasn't quite able to move efficiently. She, opened her eyes a bit and was assulted by the sun's glare coming through the window. A smile crossed her face--never before could she remember being so happy to see natural light. Her thoughts quickly drifted to whatever her body was entangled in. Looking down, she was surprised to see an arm draped across her waist. Not just any arm...Grissom's arm. And she could feel his body pressed up against her back and his breaths against her ear. She spend a few long moments wondering how they ended up in this position. The last thing she clearly remembered was him insisting, angrily, that he was going to sleep on the floor. She began to vaguely recall an unpleasant dream from earlier in the evening and then him crawling into bed with her. Comforting words and actions that came from the man holding her engulfed her thoughts. Clearly, that had to have been part of the dream, too..right? But, if that were the case, what else could have brought him up to the bed last night? ~It was cold, Catherine--get a grip. He was probably just cold.~ Her mind chose to believe that, but her heart just wouldn't accept it. The body lying against her felt too good for her heart to believe that it was there only due to necessity for warmth. Either way, she would find out..she would make it her mission..  
  
Catherine turned gently in his arms, until they were face to face. She smiled at the sight of him in a peaceful slumber. Her hand, with a mind of its own, reached up to his face, caressing the rough stubble that was starting to form there. She moved her fingers upwards, allowing them to dance in the light curls just above his ear. Her eyes traveled down his covered body and watched the blankets move as her foot traced across his calf. When her eyes traveled back upwards, she almost jumped at the sight of his blue orbs staring at her. Embarrassed by her actions, she attempted to pull away from him. However, his hand on her back tightened its grip and forced her to stay fixed up against him. "Good morning," he whispered with a crooked smile.  
  
"Hi." She wanted to bury her head back into the pillows, but she knew it was too late to pretend that she was asleep.  
  
"How long have you been awake?"  
  
"Um...not long, actually. Just a few minutes. I'm sorry I woke you up." She began to wonder exactly how red her face was.  
  
"That's okay. Are you feeling better this morning?"  
  
"Better?" This was the chance she had been waiting for...  
  
"Yeah. You were having some sort of dream last night--you seemed a bit upset. You don't remember?"  
  
"Vaguely." She smiled at him. "I was kind of wondering about this..." Her hands gestured to the two of them so close together. "...I was actually thinking that maybe you got cold."  
  
"No. Well, yeah, it was cold. But, you...um, asked me to hold you--so I did." His voice was wavering a bit, and his mind was starting to wonder if she believed him.  
  
"I don't remember very much. I know I had a bad dream about the murders here. I'm not sure about much else."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry." He started to pull his arm away, but before he could remove it completely she grabbed his hand and held it to her hip.  
  
"You know, Grissom, you apologize an awful lot for someone who hasn't done anything wrong."  
  
"I'm sorry." He gave a small chuckle, which she returned. A hint of seriousness swept back through him as he began to speak again. "I am sorry about snapping at you last night, though. My behavior was uncalled for. I was just...~tell her~...well, I...~tell her~...I was feeling...~NO!~....I don't know, really. I guess I was just tired. But, I am sorry--I just wanted you to know that." ~You idiot.~  
  
"It's okay. I've seen you cranky before. I just usually know what's wrong- -and last night you weren't willing to explain anything--I was just worried that maybe I had upset---"  
  
"No. No, it wasn't anything you did, Cat. It's me."  
  
"Hey, I wonder if we've got power yet?" It was time for a change of conversation. She wasn't getting anywhere with this one..he just seemed antsy and ashamed of something...and she wasn't ready for him to retreat back into his shell just yet.  
  
"I sure as hell hope so. I'll check." Pushing the covers partially off of himself, he stretched to the other side of the bed and flicked the switch on the lamp. "Nothing." He waited for a verbal reaction from her, and when he didn't receive one he settled back onto the bed and turned to face her---she was grinning widely. "I said that there's still no power, Cat." He was confused by her amusement.  
  
"I know. I heard you." Her eyes traveled down to his waist and she giggled. "I can't believe you wear those."  
  
A flush rose to his face as he looked down at his boxers, black, adorned with little red ladybugs. "Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"I just never imagined that you would. I remember, it was the night before your birthday and Lindsey wanted to pick you out something herself--she saved her allowance money up for you a birthday present. I told her that I would just put her name along with mine on the watch I bought you, but she wouldn't hear to it. So, we go shopping and she sees these boxer shorts and HAS to have them. I tried everything in my power to get her to pick out something else--a shirt, a tie--anything. But, she wouldn't budge. She said that you would love them. So, we bought all three pairs-- butterflies, ladybugs, and beetles. Never in a million years did I think you would actually wear them." Her head was thrown back in laughter, as she wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing. "They look cute on you, Gil."  
  
"Thanks, Cat. Your sincerity moves me."  
  
"I'm not kidding. Not many men could pull that look off." She allowed her fingers to graze the waistband of his boxers. "You manage well."  
  
"Well, I'm glad that you feel that I can retain my masculinity amongst the insects."  
  
She laughed again and rose from the bed, stretching her arms and twisting her neck. She grabbed a few items of clothing and a toothbrush from her suitcase and headed towards the bathroom. Before entering, she turned back towards the bed and smiled. "Just for the record, Grissom...your masculinity has never been in question..."  
  
  
  
TBC. Guess what? You know it's coming---all together now: "Still no plot." The good news is that I actually have ideas concerning the plot now. YAY! And, I still have a lot of G/C ideas up my sleeve. For me, that's the best of both worlds. Thanks again for the awesome reviews. Until next time... 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
"Hey Gris, think anyone would mind if we flew back to Vegas for some food? I'm starving.." Catherine was talking and brushing her hair as she walked from the bathroom. Setting the brush on the desk and looking around, she noticed that he was nowhere in sight. ~Where is he?~ A thumping at the door made her jump and take a step backwards. Tip-toeing towards the door, she stretched up and cautiously looked through the peep- hole. When she saw Grissom's face, she let out the deep breath that she had been holding and opened the door. "What are you doing?"  
  
He gestured to the tray in his hands and tried to speak, despite the hinderance of the newspaper that he had clinched between his teeth. "Food," he finally managed to mumble. She swiftly removed the tray from his hands and placed it down on the bed. Before he had completely entered the room, she had already began to devour a blueberry muffin. He laughed at the sight of her and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Hungry?"  
  
"Famished. Are you a mind reader?"  
  
"I try." He grinned and watched in amusement as she abandoned the muffin and moved onto a strawberry. She rolled her eyes back in pleasure and released a satisfied groan as the fruit's juice splashed into her mouth. For a moment, he wondered if he audibly groaned with her while watching her seduce the fruit with her lips. He was, actually, almost positive that he had..  
  
Without speaking, Catherine slid an apple in his direction. He gladly picked it up and walked over to grab the newspaper off of the desk, before settling back onto the bed. Snatching the section that he wasn't reading off of his lap, Catherine leaned back beside him and began to skim through the local news.  
  
After a few moments in silence, she elbowed him and pointed to headline that she had found. Curious by her actions, he leaned into her to read what she had found.  
  
SHERIFF-ELECT STEVENS TO HOLD PARTY IN TOWN'S HONOR.  
  
"Sheriff-elect?" He repeated it to himself and looked into her eyes, finding the frightened excitement that he was sure mirrored his own.  
  
"Motive?" She whispered it as a question, but knew that it was the key that they had been looking for.  
  
"Damn. Sure sounds like it. He wasn't re-elected--he's angry. Something's just not right, though. If these murders remain unsolved while he's still in charge, doesn't that, in effect, prove that the voters were right..that he's not fit for the office? Kind of defeats the whole purpose- -not that those killings could have ever serve a purpose. But, one cannot always surmise the goings on inside of the criminal mind... We're close, Cath. I can feel it. We're headed in the right direction--we just need to figure out how he could imagine killing innocent people could further him along."  
  
"I know." She sighed and pointed to the picture of the future sheriff. "If anyone, why wouldn't he go after the person who pushed him out of office?"  
  
Grissom contemplated Catherine's question before responding cryptically with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe he did.." She could see the sparkle that lit up in his blue eyes. He had something--that was the look that appeared everytime he got close.  
  
"What? Gris--" Before she could finish her thought, he had hopped up from the bed and rushed towards the door.  
  
Clutching the doorknob, he paused and turned towards her. "You coming?"  
  
"Yeah." Catherine rose to her feet and pulled her purse off of the desk. "But, where are we going?"  
  
"To investigate.."  
  
TBC.. O.K., I know that was REALLY short, but I wanted to post something and I thought that that was a good stopping place for the time being. I should post more on Thursday. Thanks again for the reviews--they keep me fueled, guys! And I finally got some plot action going! ; ) But, don't fret--G/C are not forgotten! Not by any means! 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
Catherine glanced over at Grissom, who was keeping his focus on the road. "You know Gris, you still haven't told me where we're going?"  
  
"You'll find out soon."  
  
"Are we lost?"  
  
He laughed a bit and shot his eyes in her direction. "No."  
  
" How do you know where you're going? Do you live a secret life here?"  
  
"Yes. The wife and kids miss me when I'm in Vegas." He gave her a small wink.  
  
It was her turn to laugh as she smacked him on the leg. "Don't even joke about that. It's scary!"  
  
"What is?" He smiled at her briefly before looking back at the road.  
  
"Just thinking of you leading a double life and the whole 'Hi honey, I'm home' persona. It's hard to visualize. Funny..but hard."  
  
"So, you don't think I'd make a good husband?" His mouth was still turned upwards in a smile, but something in his eyes added a twinge of sadness to his countenance.  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Yeah...I think you did." He chuckled again before turning down a side street. "But, you're right, though...I'd make a lousy husband."  
  
She reached her hand over, letting her fingertips graze his knee. "No, Gil. I lived with a 'lousy husband' for years. You don't have that in you. Hell, I've only pretended to be married to you for a day..." A sparkling smile crossed her features. ".. and I think you're doing a damn fine job."  
  
"Thanks." He averted his gaze to her hand, now resting on his knee, and blushed slightly. "But, I'm not so sure being compared to Eddie gives me peace of mind, Cat."  
  
"I'm not comparing you to Eddie, Grissom. I'm comparing Eddie to you. I always have.." ~Shut up, Catherine. God, just blurt it all out--you're on a roll..~ As the heat rose to her face, she pulled her hand from his leg and turned to face the window, feigning interest in her surroundings.  
  
Grissom's eyes widened at her last statement. His mind was so caught up in reeling from the possible implications of her words, when he almost missed the turn-in to his destination. He quickly turned the wheel to the left and felt the car jump into the gravel that filled the small parking lot. "Um...I think we're here."  
  
Catherine looked up and read the small lettering on the window. UNION TOWNSHIP GAZETTE.  
  
"The local newspaper?" She still wasn't facing him--her eyes were busy scanning the worn-down building.  
  
"Yeah. We'll get copies of the past few weeks' papers and see if we can find any information on the victims that we haven't been privy to as of yet."  
  
She looked in his direction, mocking him with her squinted eyes. "Um, Gris. Haven't you heard the saying 'don't believe everything you read'? Especially in the newspapers--they have a way of twisting information to suit whatever biased opinion they've chosen to take."  
  
"Very true. But, sometimes newspapers tend to obtain the unobtainable." He smiled, pleased with his defense. He saw the hesitant look in her eyes, so he continued. "Trust me, Cath, I wouldn't readily turn to the 'Las Vegas Sun' for case information on a case. But, this is a small town--the glitz and glamour aren't needed. The information these newspapers present might be just as helpful as interviewing people--which, unfortunately, we aren't able to do at this time. Besides, that tabloid of Greg's helped convict Haviland...remember?"  
  
"Yeah, how could I forget? Do you make it your mission in life to be right all of the time, Gris?"  
  
"How'd you guess?" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "You got me figured out, do you?"  
  
"I'm getting there." Catherine stared straight into his eyes. She knew she was getting close to figuring out the enigma that was Gil Grissom. They had always been close, but this trip was providing her with a side of Grissom that she had never seen..a side that she ached to see more of. The one thing that she couldn't place, however, is WHAT exactly, has prompted this beautiful change in him..  
  
He smiled after becoming a bit too comfortable in their eye contact. He shifted a bit and manuvered himself out of the seat belt. When he reached for the door handle, she quickly grabbed his arm and looked at him questioningly. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Um..didn't we just talk about this?" He gestured to the building. "Or did I imagine that?"  
  
"Gil, are you just going to walk in there and politely ask for the last several weeks worth of newspapers? Don't you think that might raise an eyebrow or two? Do you have a plan?"  
  
"No." He said it simply--there was no need to pretend that he had, actually, thought about what reasons he might give. A bit embarassed that he had left out such a major detail while enthralled in his excitement, he frowned and asked Catherine if she had any ideas.  
  
"Actually, I do. You stay here. I just hope I've still got it in me..." She winked at him and opened her car door.  
  
"Got what.? What are you planning? Why am I staying here?" He recognized the mischievous look of determination that shot across her face. He was still questioning her when she pulled herself out of the car. "Aren't you going to tell me what's going on?"  
  
Before shutting the door, she bent down so that he could see her face. She shook her head 'no' and smirked at him. "If I told you, you wouldn't let me do it..."  
  
Still processing what she could be up to, he sat in the car and watched as she shut her door and entered the building. Curiosity finally got the best of him several long minutes later. He climbed out of the car, wincing as the biting wind hit his face. He was reaching into the back seat to grab his coat, when he heard the sound of voices. Whipping himself around, he sighed in relief when he saw Catherine holding the door open for an older gentleman who was carrying two large stacks of papers in his arms. Grissom directed his gaze towards Catherine and raised an eyebrow at her. She bit her lip and shrugged innocently at him. Grissom quickly opened the door leading to the backseat and helped the man transfer the newspapers onto the leather cushions. He, then, watched as the man shook Catherine's hand a muttered something about 'the pleasure being all his.' When Grissom saw Catherine walking back towards the passenger side of the car, he entered his side and started the engine.  
  
They were back on the main road before he decided to question her. "So, are you going to tell me what happened back there?"  
  
"Nope. Nothing to tell." She loved watching him squirm.  
  
"What do you mean, 'nothing to tell'? You somehow managed to get..." he eyed the backseat quickly "...at least two or three weeks worth of newspapers. You seemed very convinced that that feat was impossible without a plan. I'm just wondering how you managed..."  
  
"Don't ever under-estimate the charisma of a woman, Gil."  
  
"I'm afraid to ask what that might mean."  
  
"It means that I pulled the neckline of my shirt down a bit, stood a little closer than I normally would during a friendly conversation, and dropped the line once or twice that I used to be a stripper. The man never even asked why I wanted the newspapers. That was my goal.." The corners of her mouth turned upwards. "...and I accomplished it."  
  
"I..cannot..believe...you. The man had to have been pushing eighty years old, Catherine. You could have given him a heart attack." He was shaking his head as he grinned widely. "So, he fell for it...just like that?" He removed his hand from the steering wheel and snapped his fingers in enunciation.  
  
"Grissom, just because you aren't susceptible to my charms, doesn't mean all men aren't."  
  
"I--" He began to utter something, but didn't know what the hell his defense to that was going to be. Initially, he was relieved when she continued speaking.  
  
"I mean 'this' has no effect on you." She gently ran her fingertip along the outer shell of his ear, pausing at his lobe and caressing it between her thumb and forefinger. "Drove him crazy, though... You should have seen him--even you could have appreciated the humor in it."  
  
He could have sworn that he almost drove the car off of the road when she touched him. ~'Has no effect on me'? Is she serious?~ He swallowed hard and barely resisted closing his eyes when her fingers moved to the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Continuing to stare straight ahead, he attempted to focus on anything but how her soft hands were breaking down his body's resolve. ~Calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything to her. She's trying to prove a point. Don't make a fool out of yourself.~  
  
Squeezing the back of his neck gently, Catherine began to wonder if he was suspicious as to why, exactly, she was still touching him. She, herself, knew that this went way beyond a simple 'demonstration.' She relished in the feel of his skin beneath her fingerips. "God Gris, you're tense." Squeezing the back of his neck lightly, she could feel the hardened muscles twitch. "Must be this case, huh? It's got you worked up..." She continued to mumble lightly as she kneeded her palm in between his shoulder blades.  
  
"Uh huh. Must be that." ~Liar.~ His breaths were short and choppy, he and was starting to believe that she must, actually, want him to wreck the car. As he slowed the car to a stop, he took a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on her.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
He jerked his eyes open. "Huh?" He felt the immediate loss as her hand released itself from his back and moved to the dashboard, balancing herself as she leaned forward and looked out of the windshield.  
  
"You stopped."  
  
He looked up at the swinging traffic light and back over to her. "Red does still indicate 'stop', right?"  
  
She laughed lightly. "As far as I know. But, the light is illuminated, Gil. Meaning that--"  
  
"--the power's back on." He finished.  
  
"Excellent use of deductive reasoning, Dr. Grissom." She patted the top of his head lightly and giggled at his expression.  
  
He too began to laugh at slightly at his own stolidness. He thought better of trying to defend himself--he didn't think it wise blame her because of the effects that she had on his body and mind.  
  
When the red light flickered to green, Grissom turned and pulled into the Inn's lot. Catherine helped him stack the papers into his arms. They began their ascent up the stairs of the fire escape, evading potential questions that the bundles of newspapers might provoke.  
  
They were in for a long night. There was no way of knowing, however, just how eventful the evening may turn out to be...  
  
TBC... Sorry it took so long to update! Retail+Christmas=Busy Ann! Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! You guys mean so much to me! You're all awesome! More casefile and G/C in the coming chapters! And I'm off this weekend(hint, hint!). ; ) 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
It had been a little over two hours since Gil and Catherine began to intricately scan every article in the newspapers. Half of the papers were laying on the bed, next to Catherine. The other half were sitting on top of the desk that Grissom was leaning on. The room had long been engulfed in intense silence, except for slight mumbles of frustration.  
  
Grissom was the first to speak coherently. Even then, the words came out as a yawn. "Anything yet?" Standing from his position at the small desk, Grissom paced the room, raising his arms above his head and stretching his back as he walked.  
  
"Uh huh. I think so." At hearing her affirmative words, Grissom stopped his pacing and whipped his head in her direction. She wasn't looking up, her eyes still plastered to the papers in front of her. As he walked closer to the bed, he noticed that she had folded several pages into smaller pieces along side her, each one focusing on a particular article. It wasn't until she felt his knees hit the side of the bed, and sensed his body hovering over her, that she looked up.  
  
"Whatcha got?" He brought his body up, so that it was completely on the bed now. Fighting to keep his balance on his knees, his body's momentum send his hands splaying outward, coming to rest on Catherine's waist.  
  
She shivered lightly when his mouth came dangerously close to her ear, releasing an apology. She was sure that she trembled even more when his hands left her body, opting to reach for one of the articles on the bed.  
  
Scanning the article, he relaxed a bit upon the bed, resting his body next to hers. Catherine watched him intently, his blue eyes flipping back and forth, taking in the words in front of him. When his eyes stopped and focused, she knew that he had found the same words that had intriqued her...  
  
"John Powell..second victim..Democrat?"  
  
"They all were." She handed him another article.  
  
"The sheriff's a democrat." Grissom looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her to continue with what she had deduced from the articles.  
  
"Yes, he was. And from what I can tell, most, if not all, of the victims worked with him during his campaign." She watched him as he processed this information. His tongue slipped from his lips, and he bit it lightly in concentration.  
  
"If anything, I was expecting the victims to be part of the sheriff-elect's campaign...not his own. This is twisting in every direction. So, are we assuming that he killed them because he lost his attempt to get re- elected?" He pulled his glasses off and attempted to rub the strain from his eyes.  
  
"That would make for a good motive.." She watched as he nodded his head in agreement, before finishing her statement. "...if two of the victims weren't murdered the week before the election took place."  
  
"Before, huh? God Cath, can this get more complicated? Everything we have on the sheriff is either pure speculation on our parts, or circumstantial evidence..and there's no way in hell we're going to get a conviction on either."  
  
"I know that, Gil. We need more...a lot more. But, what if he kills again? If we can't even figure out the reasons behind the first murders, how are we going to know which direction he may head next?"  
  
He was silent for a few minutes--his mind thinking of every plausible senerio. One potential situation was persistantly forming over and over in his head.. "Cath, I think you were right."  
  
"I didn't say anything, Grissom." She stared at him, wondering what he was talking about.  
  
"This morning...when you asked why he wouldn't have went for the one person who hindered his re-election--"  
  
"Sheriff-elect Stevens..."  
  
"Right. Well, what if that's his plan? To, in essence, 'save the best for last'... Stevens could be a potential target." Grissom sat up on the bed. He stared absent-mindedly at the articles on the bed, as if he was waiting for an answer to leap out at him.  
  
"Tonight..." Catherine said it do quickly that she almost scared herself. Grissom's eyes jumped to hers in question. "The party..Stevens' party...the one we read about in the paper this morning..it's tonight. What if Jones plans to kill him then?"  
  
"It's very possible." Attempting to supress the migrane that he feared was coming, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
"You okay?" She placed the back of her hand on his cheek and rubbed gently, watching as his eyes snapped open from the contact.  
  
"Yes...well, no. Shit, Cath, I just don't know what to do now. Personally, I feel we should warn this man that his life may be in danger. But, by doing that, we could potentially hinder the entire investigation. We don't even know for sure that Sheldon Jones killed those people. That's the only lead we have right now, and I plan to see it until the end...no matter what the outcome. If we announce a potential suspect, our whole cover here is blown. The whole damn town will scramble, leaving us with even less than we started with. We've at least got 'something' now, I'm just not so sure I'm ready to let go of that just yet. But I, certainly, don't want another man dead simply because I want a case solved. I'm torn as to what to do."  
  
"Call Brass.." She raised herself onto her feet and picked up a few of the newspapers that had gotten scattered about the floor. "...tell him what's going on, let him know that we may need federal assistance--soon. Don't forget to ask if Greg has anything for us. Then, get ready. I'll change while you're on the phone."  
  
Grissom stayed put on the bed, staring at her dumbfoundedly. "Get ready for what? Why are you changing?"  
  
"We, Mr. Grissom, have a party to attend..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I really do hate ties." Tugging at the knot around his neck until he had loosened it to his satisfaction, he turned to see Catherine smiling at him. They were halfway up the stone walkway, leading to the sheriff-elect's mansion, when he stopped and grabbed her hand, effectively spinning her around to face him. "Why are you grinning?"  
  
She immediately hid her smile and attempted the guise of a neutral face. "I'm not."  
  
He could still see the mischiveous sparkle in her eyes. "You were. You look like you're up to no good."  
  
She shook her head furiously, trying to supress her laughter. "I just think that you look handsome tonight." Her hands raised to his tie, fingers working deftly to straighten it. When she was satisfied with his appearance, she tugged at his collar once more, allowing her fingers to linger on his neck for a moment. "There... Even more dashing with a little help..."  
  
"Thanks." He blushed at her compliment and racked his brain to find the perfect words to describe to her how stunning she looked also. "You look nice, too." He winced as the cliched words fell from his lips.  
  
"Thank you, Gil." She laced her fingers through his and led him in the direction of the front door. "You ready?"  
  
"Don't you think that someone's bound to be suspicious? No one knows who we are."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let's just hope that they're all too drunk by now to notice." She tapped lightly on the heavy wooden door. After no answer, she knocked a bit louder. Finally, a few moments later, she opened the door a bit, and they were immediately assulted by the boisterous music. They entered, shut the door behind them, and continued down the foyer, hand in hand, until they reached the main room. Small crowds were gathered in every corner. Idle chit-chat emitting from every group, fused together with the music to form an incoherent pandemonium of sound.  
  
Gil's eyes searched the room, stopping when a familiar face came into his view. "Jones is here." He whispered into her ear and stepped behind her, putting his arms around her waist. He was hesitant, but left his hands on her body long enough to turn her, so she was facing the direction the sheriff was in.  
  
When he attempted to pull his hands away, she grabbed them and held them tightly to her, leaning back into his chest. "I see him. He doesn't look very threatening does he?"  
  
"Looks can be deceiving..." He closed his eyes, momentarily allowing himself to forget everything surrounding him...his focus was on the woman standing ever-so-close to him; touching him, stroking his hands within her own. He inhaled deeply, letting her scent seep into his being. What he wouldn't give to have the courage to kiss her...to become one with her...just to love her..  
  
"Am I interupting anything?" Gil's eyes shot open and he jumped back from Catherine. The man who was speaking approached them, extending his hand out to Grissom. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met. Daniel Stevens."  
  
"Gil Grissom."  
  
"And you are?" The sheriff-elect gestured to Catherine.  
  
"I'm Catherine."  
  
Stevens noticed that he was being waved to the other side of the room. He nodded and held up a finger, signaling that he would be over in a moment. "Well, it looks as if I'm being beckoned. Maybe I'll catch up with the two of you later...and we can discuss exactly why we've never met. Until then.."  
  
"That was close." Both Grissom and Catherine let out sighs of relief as he walked away. Catherine looked to her side and when she was sure that no one was watching, she signaled to Grissom and began to head down a corridor. She stopped momentarily, but when she saw him following around the corner, she continued walking.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To look for evidence. It's possible that Stevens has been threatened or may have something that he doesn't know could be significant in furthering the investigation." She continued to mumble her thoughts, while opening doors and peeking in. When she looked in the last door down the hallway, she pushed it open fully and pulled Grissom in with her. "Looks like his bedroom, maybe..."  
  
"Catherine. We do not have a warrant. We shouldn't be in here." "We were invited, Gil. Technically, if we find something while at this party, it's fair game, as far as evidence goes.." She pulled a pair of gloves out of her purse, smiled and walked over to the dresser, pulling out the top drawer and rifling through several pairs of socks. "Nothing here."  
  
"Catherine, I think that you might be bending those rules just a tad. Don't you think?" He walked up to beside her, leaning against the wall next to the dresser.  
  
"No. And don't tell me that if you had been smart enough to bring yourself a pair of gloves, that you wouldn't be helping me too."  
  
"Catherine, I will never admit to that." He grinned as he watched her open the next drawer.  
  
"You don't have to---." She suddenly turned to face the door, as she backed her body closer to his. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"Hear wha--?"  
  
"Shhhhh. I think someone's coming. Shit!" She tore the gloves off of her hands and shoved them back into her purse. Knowing that it was futile, she still chose to look about the room for a way to escape...or hide...or...at least attempt an explanation to give as to what they were doing in a stranger's bedroom..  
  
"Grissom, just---" Suddenly the voices in the hall became distinct. People were out there--they were close.  
  
"What?" She could see him tensing up. He was just as nervous as she was, if not more. This whole time, breaking their cover was the thing he was most worried about..that was the one thing that could ruin any chance of there being completion to the case. She had to think of something...  
  
"Grissom..kiss me."  
  
He stood, mouth gaping open, wondering if he had heard her correctly. When she began to loosen his tie, and quickly untucked his shirt from his pants, he started to realize that she had, indeed, told him to kiss her. "Cath--"  
  
He silenced himself when he felt her push him against the wall. Her right hand was wound in his hair, and her left was snaking from his chest around to his back. He could feel her hot breath on his skin, and he felt his own body shudder as her lips made contact with the light stubble on his jaw.  
  
When she felt him tense, she moved her mouth to his ear, preparing a quick explanation as to why, exactly, she had manuvered him into this intimate position. The feel of his hands suddenly clutching her hips, pulling her closer to him, forced her to abandon all logical thoughts. She, instead, planted a soft kiss on his earlobe. When he, in turn, hesitantly kissed the side of her neck, she sucked his lobe into her mouth, biting gently. A growl emerged from deep within Grissom's throat, and he surprised both himself and Catherine, when he swiftly reversed their positions, pinning her between the wall and himself. He met her eyes and, upon seeing no discernible regret there, leaned his head closer to hers. She met him halfway, allowing her lips to graze his tenderly. Catherine closed her eyes, relishing in the slight electrical touch. Sensing the immediate loss as Grissom began to pull away, she quickly latched her hands to his head, pulling him to her again. Their lips captured each other again, this time lingering longer than before. She clutched her hands into the back of his shirt, as his tongue sought access to her mouth. Her lips parted, allowing their tongues to collide violently with one another. She raised her leg to the outside of his hip, again drawing his body closer to her own. He lowered his hand to her leg, holding it in place, as he kissed her with more fervor. She gasped into his mouth, relishing in the intimate contact. Hearing her audible gasp, he stopped his actions abruptly, pulling his lips from her own and releasing his hold on her leg. Her hands tighted on his shoulders, her forehead coming to rest on his. They stood silently for a few long, awkward moments, their breathing the only sounds filling the room.  
  
"I...uh...don't think anyone noticed we were in here." His chest was heaving, body still reacting from the long-desired intimate contact. He pulled away slightly, hastily striving to tuck his shirt back in.  
  
"No. They...must not have been coming in here." She watched him bite his lip, as he pushed the last wrinkled bit of dress shirt back into his slacks. When he finished, he kept his head down, eyes focusing on the floor. "Grissom?"  
  
"Hmm?" He still didn't look up.  
  
"I'm sorry about that...just now, I mean. I just thought that if someone came in, it would...well...divert attention from what we were actually doing. "  
  
"I know."  
  
"Okay." It made her nervous that he wouldn't meet her eyes. As much as she loved feeling his lips on hers, she would take it all back if she thought it would make him look at her... She took a hesitant step forward, reaching out to touch her fingers against his cheek. "I'm sorry." It came out as more of a question than a statement. She wanted nothing more than for him to tell her that everything was okay...that he didn't regret it...that she had nothing to be sorry for...  
  
His head tilted upward, blue eyes tentatively meeting hers. "Cath--"  
  
His next words were cut off by the booming sounds of two gunshots...  
  
TBC.. Hey, it's me again! ; ) That was a fun chapter for me...well, the end was. Rough, though--it's been awhile! I hope you guys like it. Sorry, it was so late--I've been working on it in little bits for the last few days. Again, I appreciate your wonderful reviews--they keep me going. Thanks a bunch! 


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